


Silent

by RenaRoo



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4283895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donut and Tucker had been stationed in the desert together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The big red flag of needing more WASH ANGST and THE DONUT SITUATION had to be rectified on my blog. Also playing with the events between S8 and S10 and assuming that we had about a month or so in Valhalla before Carolina came about and Doc & Donut took over the place. I mean, the guys had to be stationed somewhere for Carolina to find them. idk. loosey goosey with canon.
> 
> Dedicated to goodluckdetective‘s pain.

Tucker has watched this Agent Washington long enough to know that he doesn’t have the full picture yet.

When Caboose made a very impassioned plea that they “keep him” and Sarge and the Reds seemed to think that if they didn’t disguise this soldier in Church’s armor, Tucker’s general reaction had been “the guy trying to kill us?” but, well, when _didn’t_ they become friends with the people trying to kill them. 

And it’s not exactly like Tucker had been there for the whole ordeal. It _is_ them after all, most people’s instincts are to kill them. 

For Caboose to be so attached already wasn’t anything new, but the Reds seemed alright with the idea, too. At first.

Then... well, they got back at Valhalla and before things could even begin to approach normal -- with Sarge’s wild plans and Caboose’s misguided attempts to get sugar from the neighboring base -- Tucker already began to notice differences. 

Grif and Simmons would banter with him, as usual, nothing more than squabbling in the middle of the box canyon until Washington would stroll over to check out things for himself. 

Simmons would go quiet and pale, never looking Wash directly in the face. Grif would become defensive, and though he’d bicker it was different. Tighter lipped and, if possible, more bitter.

In the first month, Wash had single handedly taken Red Base’s flag five times after they provoked him, and it was only after the third time that Tucker began to think -- well... he definitely seemed to know his way around Red Base a little too well for someone who had only known it from scouting.

Caboose is happy to have Wash back, even if he stumbles over the words “Washington” and, in a very Caboose fashion, manages to come out with “Church” more times than not. But Tucker... Tucker’s not happy. 

Tucker is _suspicious.  
_

It’s late enough at night for Caboose to have gone to bed, leaving Wash and Tucker in the rec room of Blue Base when Tucker decides he can’t stand it anymore.

“What is _with_ you, dude?” Tucker finally asks, throwing his hands up. “Like, I get it, I was in the desert with Donut, I missed out on some shit, but for fuck’s sake, you _terrify_ everyone.” He blinks. “Well, save Caboose. But it’s not like he’s ever made sense.”

Washington pauses from reading over the documents in his hands, looks up curiously at Tucker. “Donut?” he repeats, perplexed.

“Yeah, pink armored guy,” Tucker responds. “Used to be one of the Reds. He was moved to the Guard for me and Junior before that fuckface in the desert came at us.” He scowls. “I sent him out to tell everyone where I was trapped, which _kind of_ worked. Y’know. Before you fuckers started hunting us down for Church.”

The former Freelancer doesn’t really wear an expression at this information, but his finger taps on his knee, almost distractedly. Tucker only notices because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Wash do something like that before. 

“Pink armor?” Wash says with no real emotion behind it. 

“Yeah, pink,” Tucker repeats, crossing his armor. “Lightish red. What the fuck ever. I haven’t seen him.”

The tapping continues. 

“Hm,” Wash says, as if it means anything.

Tucker narrows his eyes. “What? What do you care about Donut?”

“That’s his name? Donut?” Wash asks, as if he’s not hearing all of Tucker’s comments, or at least is choosing not to process them.

“Yes. Franklin Donut,” Tucker responds, feeling a little testy. “Fucking weird name, right? Anyway, you’re avoiding the question. Why is everyone scared of you? I mean, badass Freelancer, sure. But we’ve ran into those all the time. You... they act different around you.”

Wash’s face doesn’t necessarily change, but he runs a hand through his hair and suddenly Tucker can’t help but feel like, before his eyes, Wash has aged _years and years._ It’s as if he’s another person entirely, but still wearing that dull ass look that Tucker is coming to hate.

“I... gave them reason to be afraid,” Wash responds, but then clams up, as if that’s all there is to say on the subject.

Tucker grunts and gets up, fed up. “Whatever, dude. You want to play cool by acting cryptic, whatever.”

He’s still pretty sure he doesn’t like this Washington character, Tucker’s not even entirely sure that the guy’s human. And that’s after _years_ of being best friends with a bunch of actual robots. 

As he leaves, though, just as the door slides closed behind him, Tucker catches a glimpse of the myth, the man, the _legend_ Agent Washington leaning into his hands and mumbling, “He had a name.”


End file.
